


bang

by onakissgodknows



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Colorado Rockies, Established Relationship, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Not Beta Read, comfort sex ??, idk blame luis perdomo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 16:04:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14312280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onakissgodknows/pseuds/onakissgodknows
Summary: When Nolan charges the mound and the benches clear, there’s no question where Carlos is going.





	bang

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the Rockies/Padres game on 4/11/18 wherein Nolan charged the mound after a pitch went behind him. The background is that Manuel Margot was hit by pitch the night before - accidental, though it ended up putting him on the DL - and then in the top of the third another Padres batter was hit on the hands, and in the bottom of the third all hell broke loose.

“Did you think this was going to happen? After what happened with Margot, and then the hit-by-pitch today, did you think they’d do that?”

“I thought they might.”

Nolan stops pacing enough to look at him, cocks his head. “To me?”

“You’re crazy if you didn’t think it’d be you.” A hit-by-pitch, then the Rockies’ star up to bat first in the next inning? Of course it would have been Nolan.

“Were you worried?”

“Yes. A little.” Maybe if Carlos were ahead of Nolan in the lineup, it would have been him instead.

Nolan snorts and resumes pacing. “Afraid I’d get hurt?”

“More afraid of what you’d do.”

“What did you think I’d do?”

“Exactly what you did.”

 

Carlos watches as the 96-mph fastball sails behind Nolan and hits the backstop - _bang_. Nolan arches his back to avoid it, and it’s almost graceful, like a dancer, but what happens next is anything but.

It is so early in the season. It’s too early for Nolan to snap like this, but maybe frustration is already pulsing hot in his veins – _bang bang bang_ – from the Rockies’ slow start, from his own offensive slump, or it’s just the fiery anger that comes when you know the person standing on the mound intended to hurt you. 

When Nolan charges the mound and the benches clear, there’s no question where Carlos is going.

 

“I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have.”

He isn’t wrong. “You’re not helping your team by getting suspended.”

“I wouldn’t be helping my team from the DL either.” Like Margot isn’t helping the Padres.

“Mmm.” Carlos is noncommittal.

“If you think it was stupid, you can just fuckin’ say so.”

“Baby, it’s always stupid, shit like this. You know that.”

Nolan finally stops pacing and collapses facedown onto the bed next to Carlos. “Is it bad if I don’t regret it? I’d do it again.”

Carlos reaches down and runs his fingers through Nolan’s hair. “At least land a punch next time.”

Nolan peeks up at him. “I thought you were the voice of reason.”

 

Nolan’s already been forced out of the scrum when Carlos reaches him, but Carlos pulls him away from the Padres players holding him back and starts corralling him towards the dugout.

Carlos feels a little like he’s playing with fire putting his hands on Nolan right now, but if anybody can calm him down, it’ll be him. Arms around Nolan’s waist, he drags him away even as Nolan tries to push him off. It’s like he hasn’t even noticed Carlos. His mind is on his rage, and when Nolan’s mind is set on something, he clamps down and doesn’t let go.

“Nolan, leave it,” Carlos hisses.

He does shove Carlos off then, and springs away. “I’m not a fucking dog!” Somebody on the Padres yells something obscene at Nolan and Nolan yells right back, tries to dive back towards the center of the action before Carlos catches hold of him and keeps pushing him towards the dugout.

Ian Desmond has his arms around AJ Ellis, who’s struggling to get free and get back at Nolan, and Nolan wants at him just as bad. Carlos catches Ian’s eye, and Ian shakes his head like _can you believe this_?  

McGwire and Hosmer hover around them with their heated words intended to diffuse Nolan’s anger. They mean well, but they aren’t helping.

Carlos finally wrangles Nolan into the dugout. “Are you all right?”

He’s fuming. “Am I – am I _all right_? CarGo – “

“Are you hurt?” Carlos interrupts. He didn’t think anyone’s punches made contact, but he doesn’t know went on before he got there.  

Nolan turns his back on him. “No, I’m not hurt.”

 

“You see how he ran away from me? Hard to land a punch on a fuckin’ coward.”

“Nolan,” Carlos says reproachfully, even though he agrees.

“All right, all right, I’ll try harder next time, but that means you gotta let me. Instead of pulling me out.”

That isn’t going to happen. He thinks about the pitch – _bang_ – the pitcher throwing his glove – _bang_ – Nolan throwing the punch – _bang_. None of them found their target, which is – Carlos doesn’t know what he would have done –

 

After everything, Carlos singles up the middle to drive in the first run of the game. It’s not because of the brawl, Carlos won’t give that the credit, but hey, scoring after something like that feels pretty good.

He’s on first base when Hosmer speaks to him. “Hey, we okay, man?”

Carlos peels his batting gloves off and hands them to the first base coach. “Yeah, we’re cool. No hard feelings. You’re protecting your team.”

Hosmer laughs, maybe a little nervously. “Arenado. Is he okay?”

Carlos has his eyes on the batter, waiting for the pitch. “Fine,” he says shortly.

“Not really like him, is it?”

Carlos cuts his eyes to Hosmer as he takes his lead off first base. He knows Hosmer and Nolan are friends, but this isn’t Hosmer’s business and he doesn’t like Hosmer using it as small talk during a game. “He’s fine, Hosmer.”

 

Carlos tugs Nolan’s hair gently. “Come here.”

Nolan lays there for a moment, then drags himself to his knees so he can lean in and kiss Carlos. Carlos keeps one hand in his hair, the other on the side of Nolan’s neck, where he can feel Nolan’s pulse fluttering _bang bang bang_. Nolan’s still keyed up.

Carlos drops his head to kiss Nolan’s neck over his pulse. “You know you can always ask me for anything you need.”

“I know.”

He knows, but he _hates_ asking, and Carlos gets the feeling that he kind of hates _needing_.

Carlos keeps reminding himself this isn’t why he re-signed with the Rockies, but he’s kidding himself if it wasn’t on his mind all offseason, even before the _miss you_ messages, the _wish you were here_ texts all winter.

It’s nice to be needed.

 

Nolan avoids him immediately following the game, to Carlos’s chagrin, so Carlos only hears his comments when he gets online.

_“It is what it is…”_

_“They thought they had to do something and I thought I had to do something too….”_

_“Yeah, I expect to be suspended.”_

 

It isn’t the only reason he re-signed with the Rockies, but what the hell would Nolan do without him?

Carlos nudges Nolan’s arms up so he can take his shirt off, and Nolan obliges without a word. Carlos pushes him onto his back and rolls on top of him. He straddles Nolan’s hips and pulls his own shirt off. Nolan’s propped up on his elbows, watching him quietly, and it might be the first time all day Nolan’s been quiet.

Nolan reaches for Carlos’s waistband, and Carlos lets him pop the button on his jeans and get the zipper down.

 

Nolan had been shaking in his arms when Carlos pulled him into the dugout. Rage or adrenaline, Carlos isn’t sure, but he wanted to hold him until he could just breathe again.

Nolan kicks the dugout wall – _bang_ – and Carlos should let him work it out on his own, but.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Carlos cautions him, and picks up his bat to go out to the on-deck circle. There’s a lot of baseball left to play yet.

 

“Maybe it was kind of hot that you came out there to protect me,” Nolan says.

Carlos rolls his eyes. “You’re fucking welcome, by the way.”

Nolan shakes his head. “No, I wasn’t thanking you. I’m just _saying_.”

Carlos catches Nolan by the chin and tilts his face up. “Am I supposed to sit back and watch this pretty face get pummeled?” Nolan tries to pull free and Carlos tightens his hand. He smiles and kisses Nolan – well, bites his lips more than kissing them, and Nolan leans into it, gives it back as much as Carlos is giving to him.

“You’re still wearing too much,” Carlos says, and moves so he’s not sitting on Nolan’s hips anymore. “Let’s change that.”

“You know I didn’t go out there trying to start a fight today,” Nolan says as Carlos yanks his pants off and throws them on the floor.

Carlos pushes Nolan’s thighs apart to settle in between them and leans down to kiss him. He twines his fingers with Nolan’s and holds them on either side of his head. Nolan leans up and kisses back hungrily, with a soft sigh.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Carlos says. He brushes his lips against Nolan’s, nudges their noses together. He draws a hand down Nolan’s bare chest. Feels his heartbeat. “I’m glad you’re okay. Okay?”

 

If the theory of multiple universes is true, then there’s an alternate reality where the pitch connects with Nolan’s ribs.

Carlos thinks about the pitch that hit Margot last night, thinks that that’s where Perdomo was aiming on Nolan.

If Nolan doesn’t get out of the way, that pitch hits him _bang_ and he’s writhing on the ground like Margot. 96 miles-per-hour is nothing to sneeze at.

There are other versions of today that flit in and out of Carlos’s imagination.

Maybe he could have been on the ball and gotten to Nolan before he reached the mound. Maybe there’s a universe where Carlos intercepts him and presses a hand to his chest, his pounding heart, and talks him down before this gets any worse.

There’s also a universe where the pitcher doesn’t run and Nolan lands his punch _bang_ , and somebody throws one back at Nolan, and Carlos doesn’t get to him in time and then Nolan’s on the ground bleeding.

Somebody would always have been able to break it up. Taking care of Nolan isn’t something that falls only to Carlos.

Except it feels like it does.

 

Nolan rolls onto his stomach as Carlos gets his hand slick with lube and presses his fingers against him. Nolan flinches with a grunt and Carlos pauses. “Your hand is cold,” Nolan says before Carlos can ask.

“Sorry.” Carlos leans over him and softly kisses the back of his neck as he works his fingers into him. He starts with one but adds a second almost immediately, knows Nolan can take it, and he does, arching his back against him -

( - _the pitch sails past Nolan and he arches his back to avoid it_ \- )

back muscles shifting as his body tenses, fingers curling into the sheets – “CarGo – “

Carlos reaches around his hips with his free hand and gropes his dick, not trying to get him off – yet – just to touch him. If Nolan wasn’t hard before, he is now, and he moans and shakes under Carlos’s hands.  

Carlos works him up to three and he goes slow. Nolan responds beautifully to everything - every curl of Carlos’s fingers, every brush of Carlos’s lips on his back, breath catching in his throat – then he reaches back blindly, trying to grab onto Carlos.

Carlos grabs him by the wrist and pins it to his back and Nolan groans, pressing his face into the sheets. Slowly Carlos pulls his fingers free and smacks him lightly on the ass, which makes him cry out, mostly in surprise. “Turn over,” Carlos says.

Nolan does – he’s red-faced, hair a mess, eyes dark with arousal, and Carlos pushes him back by the shoulders to pin him back to the bed.

( _Nolan red-faced, messy-haired in the dugout, still shouting at AJ Ellis -_ )  

“I’m gonna fuck you,” Carlos tells him, and Nolan surges upward to capture Carlos’s lips with his, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Carlos kisses him back, smiling –

( _Nolan surging towards the mound and ducking the glove the pitcher throws at him -_ )

Carlos closes his hands possessively around Nolan’s wrists and thrusts into him.

( _The pitch hits Margot – bang – and Margot hits the ground_ )

Nolan’s eyelashes flutter.

( _The pitch hits the backstop -_ _bang_ )

His mouth falls open noiselessly and he hooks his legs around Carlos’s hips. It’s too hot in this room, Carlos should have cracked a window, and they’re both already sticky with sweat, skin on skin, and it should be too much except it isn’t because Carlos feels like he’s never going to be ready to let go of Nolan.

( _Nolan shoves him away, tries to dive back into the brawl_ )

Nolan whimpers and tightens his legs around Carlos’s waist, tries to wrench his wrists free of Carlos’s grip. “CarGo,” he whines, and Carlos knows he’s lost in it.

“Feels good, baby,” Carlos says. He lets go of one of Nolan’s wrists – Nolan can have one hand back – and wraps his free hand around Nolan’s dick. Nolan tenses up, clenches around him, grabs him by the shoulder so his fingernails are digging into Carlos’s skin enough to leave little half-moon marks that will sting just enough to remind him –

( _Carlos pushes Nolan back to the dugout, hand pressed over his pounding heart, bang bang bang_ )

Carlos throws himself on top of Nolan and slams into him hard. Nolan cries out and Carlos bites the side of his neck, then soothes it with his tongue.

“Good?” he asks Nolan breathlessly.

“ _Oh my god don’t stop_ ” is Nolan’s response, so Carlos doesn’t.

The headboard hits the wall _bang_.

He’s too close now, too close to find his rhythm again and too close to stop, so he just goes, driving his hips hard and fast with his face buried against Nolan’s neck and his hand jerking Nolan’s cock and Nolan digging his nails into the back of his shoulder.

He comes suddenly, thrusts hard and holds himself there as he shudders through it.

Nolan bites his lip when he comes, choking back the noise that threatens to escape him. Carlos keeps stroking him until he goes limp, breath heavy, then he gently lets go and pulls out.

He kisses Nolan’s face and smooths his hair away from his forehead. “I love you.”

He’s said it before but doesn’t really know where it comes from now. It’s not like Nolan doesn’t know.

“I love you too,” Nolan mumbles.

 

They manage to get up and get clean. Carlos throws on a pair of shorts and throws off the dirty sheets before getting back in bed. Nolan dresses in sweatpants and a t-shirt he stole from Carlos’s luggage. Carlos feels a smile creeping over his face.

Nolan lays his head in Carlos’s lap. Carlos puts an arm around him protectively and Nolan grabs onto it.

“Staying here tonight?” Carlos asks.

Nolan’s chest rises and falls as he sighs. “You don’t mind, right?”

“Of course not.” He absentmindedly traces Nolan’s face with his fingertips.

Nolan’s quiet another minute, then, “I guess I’m glad you didn’t let me get pummeled.”

It’s probably as close to a thank you as Carlos will get for this one.

There will be things to worry about tomorrow. Suspensions, fines, the prospect of what may or may not happen the next time these teams meet.

Tonight, though, Nolan closes his eyes.

It’s not why Carlos re-signed with the Rockies, but imagining watching all this happen on TV, wearing someone else’s uniform– well – he’s glad it didn’t come to that.

Like he’s read Carlos’s mind, Nolan opens his eyes. “Hey, I’m really glad you didn’t leave us.”

“Didn’t leave _you_ ,” Carlos corrects him without thinking.

Nolan closes his eyes again, smiling for what seems like the first time all day. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I meant.”

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on tumblr](https://on-a-kiss-god-knows.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
